Born and brought up amid Himalayas, Deepak Rana has been following his dreams. After completing his engineering, he worked at Deloitte for one and a half years, before he opted for writing as a full time career. His first novel – Sky Beyond the Clouds, was published by Leadstart Publishing Private Limited in 2013. He has also published a non-fiction work, Oh Nationalism, and a number a short stories. When he is not reading or writing, Deepak goes to strange places and worries about strange people.

The land of saints and sages
and rare, revered religions;
Of preachers and teachers
and large, lustrous legions;
Of a nation that was a nation,
before, the birth of rationality,
And of a nation that is a nation,
after, the death of morality.

Those, who are proud,
speak of,
hundreds and thousands of
facts and artefacts,
found in India.
All-right, all-right, I say,
But, at least, hear my plight,
and tell me –
Is your India
same as my India?

The India you speak of,
lived long, long ago,
before you and I,
or even,
India was born.
When it possessed no identity,
and thence,
absorbed everything, from anything,
without being subject, or,
object of scorn.

Now ‘it’ being India,
has found itself a name.
And with name,
comes the identity,
pride, honour and fame.
But, one thing, leads to another;
Eventually, all will fight and wither.
Hindus and Muslims.
North and South.
Left and Right.
Black and White.
All of which, coexisted till today.
Some of which, may not exist someday.

Today, when I promenade,
along these crowded streets,
I hear nothing, but,
thuds and hubbubs,
and untold shrieks.
I see nothing, but,
potholes and mud,
and garbage and muck.
I witness nothing, but,
people trilling curses;
sharing dark secret news,
and Satanic Verses.

I do not know, what you mean,
when you say – India.
Whether you imply,
History or Philosophy,
Or merely,
the constitutional idea of India.
For me, none of this is true,
But only,
that India is Indians
and Indians are India.
(which is something that flurries me
which is something that worries me)

Once upon a time, we found
Gandhi, Buddha and Tagore.
But now,
with ignorance and intolerance,
we have abandoned them all.
And even their thoughts and beliefs,
are incarcerated to books,
and study halls.
(and without our consent,
these lifeless bodies cannot change us at all)

So, today,
if you ask me –
Whether I am a proud Indian,
Or not?
I may not answer the question.
Or I may walk away;
And walk away,
to find a nobler thought.